


Love me, love you

by neerapen



Series: The Pull [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Banter, Comunication Issues, Convoluted Declarations of Love, Declarations Of Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Insecure Lance (Voltron), M/M, Misunderstandings, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oblivious Lance (Voltron), POV Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Post-Season/Series 04, Supportive Keith, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-02-20 11:26:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13145694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neerapen/pseuds/neerapen
Summary: Keith is trying to tell Lance that he loves him, but Lancedoesn't get it.Keith has conflicted feelings on this matter.orLance thinks he’s not good enough. Keith decides to show him he's wrong. After all, Lance might be Keith's stability, but the opposite is also true.





	1. Fake it till you make it

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Keith just wants to tell Lance that he's loved. 
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy this silly ride with feelings, misunderstandings and frustration starring as Keith's best buds.  
> Lance, the boy is trying to tell you something, wake up pls

"Nobody loves me, you know. Actually _loves_ me for who I am."

Lance's voice echoes around them, filling the hangar with his timbre, highs stumbling quicker than lows, like the beginning of a song that only Keith is admitted to hear.

Keith blinks at Lance, drinking in the way he looks in that exact moment: the way he's keeping his hands on his hips, his eyes shining with the lights provided by the Castle, how the Blue Paladin's suit clings around him like an embrace. It's all so familiar and at the same time so far from Keith's last memory of him. Keith sighs and looks away, unable to believe that Lance is still gazing at him the same way he used to two years ago.

A part of him, deep inside, full of hope and stupid naivety, knows that Lance is waiting for him to answer. Lance is not looking at Keith, but at Red, and Keith knows - as if nothing changed between them and everything did at the same time, - that Lance is questioning himself once again, the same way he did before.

When Keith decided to act and provide an answer to him.

The silence in the hangar is heavy, a reminder that they are alone, if alone is a valid term when Red is both a looming and fretting figure in front of them.

Keith tilts his head, frowns, then looks at his former lion for a little hint. Red purrs for less than a second, clipped, sending hums of emotions he shouldn't even hear anymore, so Keith accepts that yes, this is happening, and yes, it's up to him to fix this new Lance… issue. Or something.

When he turns, he's not surprised to find Lance staring at him: expectant, but defeated at the same time. Doomed by his own thoughts, like Keith is most of the times. Keith can relate to him. Keith can relate too much to what Lance just said. Some things might have changed, but the brain isn't known to fully work accordingly to logic. Keith has still problems with facing his emotions, still thinks that running away from certain feelings is easier than doing everything possible to save them. But he also learned the beauty hidden behind an emotion. How to cherish it, despite time and space. He doesn't really know why it's happening, or how it stayed strong for so long, or why Lance is looking at him like he has all the answers. Why does Lance still trust him? Keith run away from them. He run away from Lance, specifically. Keith doesn't know anything about anything. He only knows how to survive: by stabbing some things and running away from other things. That's it. At the end of the day, Keith is a practical guy. All the rest is a lot of guessing, with some sporadic logical thinking when his instinct is in a good mood. Emotions? Those are another thing altogether.

But Lance is trying to tell him something. Something important, since he is, apparently, already done talking. A concise Lance is a rarity, but one Keith learned to take very seriously: the less Lance talks, the more he's saying. And this Lance? He's silent.

Keith blinks again. Lance sighs, looking away.

"I think they do," Keith says, breaking the silence. "Hunk does. Coran too. Even Pidge and Allura." Keith frowns. "Shiro is weird at showing it, especially lately, but he does, too."

Lance hums, then denies it: "They don't. It's more like a 'hey-we-are-stuck-together-so-guess-we-will-get-along' thing."

Keith can't stop the twitching of his nose.

Lance laughs at him, but it's more like a noiseless chuckle: "I'm not saying we are not friends, just that... You know." Keith doesn't, so he waits for more. "Do we really know each other?"

"We basically mind meld on a daily basis, Lance."

"Aside from the weird Voltron thing."

"We do the Voltron thing _every single day_!"

"You _didn't_ —" Lance stops immediately, but Keith knows what was about to come out. So _that_ big can of worms is still a stingy issue for Lance. He wasn't sure. Not after the sass Lance gave him after he came back.

Keith pinches his nose and takes a deep breath. Truth is, they should probably talk about what him leaving caused to the team - or at least what it entailed for the two of them - but they both know they have to avoid it, if they want to survive without shouting at each other every now and then.

"Lance, I can't..." Keith huffs, opening his arms and raising his shoulders. "Listen, maybe they don't. I don't know. Maybe not how you want them to. But I do, okay?" Lance stares openly at him, eyes widening like scaultrite cookies, and Keith's heart suggests to just somersault in space and never come back again, but Keith is on a mission now, so fuck it: "Yes, Lance, I love you! For who you are!"

Lance sputters at that, raising his fists in a stupid attempt to shut Keith up. "You don't even—"

"What, know you?" Keith asks, defiant.

Lance gurgles, arms falling at his sides. "You don't." A faint, useless complaint, in Keith's opinion. Keith might not know Lance fully, but he knows enough. He knows the good and the bad, especially the bad. Lance showed him everything out of spite, probably, knowing that Keith can't deal with people being open with him. Like Hunk.

They are just so… _warm_.

"Did you ever let someone do it?" Keith asks because, really. When will Lance understand that his soft side is one of the most beautiful things in the entire universe? He was chosen not by one, but two lions, and not just because he was an hothead, or a bossy idiot who can't even drive a lion minivan.

Lance shrugs, hands now hiding under his armpits, and meets his eyes. "Did you?"

 _Touché_ , Keith thinks, looking away and losing the staring contest. "I do." He learned. He's still learning.

"Not enough," Lance says, punching him lightly on the arm. Keith does a double take, eyes fixed on him once again. "You hate our fans," Lance jokes, and Keith feels a little less defensive. A little softer.

He scoffs, shaking his head: "Morale boost is not my forte," he says, matter-of-factly.

"Thank quiznak I'm so skilled at it, I can cover your lacking." Lance assures him, taking the weight of guilt away from Keith like it's a trifle for him. He probably doesn't even realize it. He just …does it, without asking anything in return. It used to drive Keith crazy, now it only helps to inflate the big, fluffy thing inside of him with Lance's name branded on it.

Keith smiles, punching Lance back. "There, that's why I love you: your big, fake ego is my perfect hiding spot."

Lance harrumphs, then click his tongue. "Fake lover."

"I cradled you in my arms: _truest_ lover."

"Heh, fake cradling."

Keith grabs Lance by the back of his neck and drives him away from Red, ignoring Lance's sputtering about Galra strength and smirking with satisfaction.

"Let me go, Keith!"

"Uh-huh, I'm hungry, we're gonna eat fake good food."

"Drinking fake tea." Lance adds tartly, finally keeping up with Keith's steps.

"Using fake spoons." Keith answers, letting him go and hopping on the elevator.

Lance follows him and stretches his arms above his head, yawning. "Man, am I grateful to have Hunk with us."

"Coran is the one cooking tonight," Keith reminds him, pressing the right floor button.

"Fake cook."

Keith snorts.

He _does_ love Lance, huh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you are new, you might not notice, but I gave this chapter a revamp ;)


	2. It's about patience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith might not be good at this... thing, but he wants to try. For Lance (and maybe a bit for himself too).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess this is now a multi-chaptered thing? Uh oh.  
> Thanks to M for the beta job <3

For a while, Keith thinks that it's all back to normal.

He isn't so preposterous to think that his little discussion with Lance fixed the entire problem, but he's being more attentive, okay? He's looking out for Lance. He's really trying.

It's kind of a natural thing, lately.

They are about to go on a mission, one that doesn't seem too complicated but still takes a lot of backup plans. Pidge has elaborated at least three ways that could possibly go wrong, but assured them that there's a way out for each of those. Keith purses his lips, losing Pidge when she starts explaining in a more complicated manner, and he steps on the side to stand closer to Lance.

Lance casts a quick glance at him from the corner of his eye and Keith waits for Pidge to finish, before he tilts his head in Lance's direction.

Lance doesn't hesitate to move closer, his hair brushing Keith's before he stops: "If we fuck up all of these plans, there is option _Rage On and Destroy Everything_ , option _Fuck It We Hack It_ , and option _Guns Out and Run As Fast As We Can_ ," Lance explains in a whisper, matter-of-factly.

"Makes sense now," Keith nods, forcing himself to ignore the weird feeling that wants him to move even closer. He mentally shoves the blooming butterflies out of his stomach.

"Do you want to team up with me? In case we have to go with the third one," Lance offers, still close, still feeding the butterflies far too much for Keith's comfort. But Keith can't budge, because he's a bit of a masochist, and he… Well, he takes what he can get.

"Sure," he forces himself to say, wondering how he's even managing to keep a straight face. "Somebody needs to watch your back, you never use your shield." And it's something that makes Keith fret every single time he has to leave Lance's side during battle. He had actual nightmares about it when he was away. Luckily, Lance had to work more on Voltron Shows than missions in that period, but the thought still haunted him during all the time Keith stayed with the Blades. Not that he doesn't trust Lance, or the others. It's that, for some reasons, Keith wanted to just be there and make sure, personally, that whoever or whatever tried to hit Lance would have been put down as quickly as possible.

"You know I _have_ to hold the bayard with _both_ my hands, if I want to hit the mark on the first try," Lance complains, somehow managing to whine quietly.

Keith can't help the little smile that he feels on his lips, fears of the past fading at the back of his mind. "Yeah, you're pretty great when you do that," he concedes, checking for Lance's reaction at that.

Lance moves back a little, eyebrows peaked and expression shocked focused on Keith, then his face melts into a smile, a bit cocky and a bit proud: "Yeah, I'm not that bad," he agrees, slipping his hands in his pockets.

Keith hums, glancing at the others who are now listening to Hunk's monologue about electromagnetic fields and their repercussion on the planet they are about to visit. He has to repress a flinch at that, bitterness coming up with memories of his first experience as a leader biting him in the ass.

Shiro claps his hands, asking for them all to meet up again at the control room in half a varga. Keith nods at him and is about to leave, when he notices that Lance is catching up to him.

"Hey Keith."

Keith blinks, slowing down his pace: "Yeah?"

"Do you really think that?"

Keith sighs, unable to stop himself from closing the distance between them. He bumps Lance's shoulder with his own, showing him a tentative smile. "I love it when you go all sharpshooter and focused," he admits, hoping that the blush he feels rising on his cheek isn't as evident as the mad beating of his heart. Shit, this thing is hard to do without making it too obvious. "You get almost silent every now and then, it's super relaxing for my ears." There, it's definitely less romantic like that, if Lance's pout is any indication.

"I hate you so much, Mullet," Lance grumbles, hand covering his eyes for a moment.

Keith tilts his head, chuckling at Lance's blushing cheeks: "You are actually _really_ bad at receiving compliments, aren't you?"

Lance pushes him away with a hand on Keith's arm, but Keith doesn't mind, although he ends up missing Lance's grumbled answer.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that," he informs Lance, who gives him the stink eye.

" _And you never will!_ " Lance squeaks, striding quickly away.

Keith is almost tempted to reach out and stop Lance, but something tells him that patience, in this case, is once again the right answer.


	3. Sacrifices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is sleeping and Keith wishes he wasn't there to witness it.  
> Kinda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, S5 happened! But this fic will be vague enough to keep going in a limbo between Keith coming back and the Shiro problem being on hold. Because that's how I roll, still loving these two.

Keith doesn't usually stare at people.

Well, he does, especially when they are suspicious and he needs to make sure they're not gonna kill him, or when they are annoying and he just... _can't_ stop looking, because he's cursed with good hearing (probably thanks to his Galra heritage), or something like that. Yeah, it's definitely his Galra heritage, whatever amount it is, that it's making him stare at things when he really, really shouldn't.

Like right now, for example.

Keith sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, in a desperate move to quiet down his current need to take a hold of a camera. Any camera will do, really, but here he is, stuck in space and living in a super-advanced ship, and he has to accept that the great Paladins of Voltron have only one lousy phone camera that is probably in the hands of Pidge, since Lance is sleeping.

How does Keith know Lance is sleeping? Easily said: because Lance is right in front of him, drooling on the couch, curled up around Keith's jacket because fuck if Keith knows why. At least Lance is not drooling on his jacket, because that would have pushed Keith to act quickly and ruthlessly.

Keith loves his jacket, okay?

He also loves Lance, but nobody knows it and it should stay like that, so he... He needs to put the jacket first, to save himself from weird staring and barely concealed giggles.

Not that he's completely safe from them already, but dammit, Lance just needs to make it more difficult, right? What if someone else would have seen him sleeping with Keith's jacket? Someone like Pidge, for example, or worse, Hunk. Or the mice. Yeah, the news would have reached everyone in the castle and Keith would have had to bear with each one of them winking or nudging (or worse, both winking and nudging) at both him and Lance.

Keith growls, stomping his way towards Lance, but the idiot keeps sleeping, nuzzles on his jacket and— and sighs, _what the heck_ , why is Lance...

"…Mullet, hm."

Keith feels his legs giving up and he complies, sitting in front of the couch and hiding his face in his hands: "You need to stop giving me hope, you idiot."

Lance doesn't listen. Lance doesn't answer. Lance smile is still there, dreamy and way too soft when Keith tries to look at him again.

Lance does what he wants, as always, and Keith is very tempted to do just the same. He looks around, checking that the door of the common area is closed, then licks his own lips, turning his head to have a better view of Lance's face.

"I love when you sleep, by the way, you're…" Lance sighs, scrunching his nose, and Keith holds his breath for a moment, but Lance keeps sleeping, blissfully unaware, "… Definitely prettier."

Silence is the only answer Keith receives, and it's good, Keith can deal with that.

Yeah he… _He can_.


	4. Chicken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is growing to realize that this thing he's trying to do - confess without confessing, or whatever you want to call it - is not as easy as it seemed to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am late so I wrote more than usual to repent, enjoy ;)

Lance is Lance, Keith knows that.

Lance is Lance, and Keith doesn't really need a reason to think why he feels what he feels for the guy. It just bloomed slowly when Keith wasn't looking, and it's now impossible for him to stop the process.

Not that he wants to.

Well, he wishes he could have fallen in love with someone else, yeah, but not because Lance isn't a good guy. Hell, Lance is more and more becoming an amazing paladin, wearing the Voltron armor like he's born for the role, and… Despite the rivalry act, more or less dead now, he's clearly a great friend to Keith: helping him, helping each other, working together, talking about their problems, solving them together. Lance is just … _great_. So it would be stupid for Keith to avoid _The Thing_ , because he simply _wouldn't be able_ _to_.

But Lance is Lance, and Lance likes girls a lot, and Keith is, for some weird reason, his elected wingman for the party.

And it's getting a bit painful, to be honest.

"Her? What about her?"

Keith quickly glances at Lance's gloved hand on his left shoulder, then turns in the direction Lance is pointing toward with his free forefinger. An alien from a planet he doesn't really remember is talking with a Galra, and it looks like they are actually having a nice conversation. Keith fights the little dance that starts inside of him when he sees things like that, mostly because he doesn't want to be that guy who points out that see _, it's possible to be friends with the Galra!_

"Keith?" Lance presses.

"Uh, yeah, sorry. She, uh," _she's pink, like Allura_ , Keith thinks. "She looks nice?"

Lance's face is the textbook definition of _unimpressed_.

"Lovely?" Keith tries again, cringing slightly and raising his shoulders.

Lance twitches his lips: "You're terrible at this, aren't you?" He asks in a monotone, squeezing Keith's shoulder.

Keith sighs, relaxing at the touch. "Yeah, I am."

A snort, then Lance chuckles, pressing his forehead against Keith's shoulder. "It's okay," Lance says, raising his head to wink at Keith. "At least you try."

Keith fights down the sudden wave of embarrassment and clears his throat, looking back at the two aliens. They are laughing. He doesn't really think that Lance will have any chance with them, but it's not like he can just say it to Lance. Keith wants to make him laugh, or smile, not mope about women not finding him attractive enough.

Their loss, in Keith's opinion.

"We could go and try to talk with Nyma?" Keith offers, seeing her and Rolo not too far from where they are. "She shouldn't tie you to a tree again, after all."

Lance sighs, hand still resting on Keith's shoulder. It's very distracting. "You know, Nyma is great but…"

"But?" Keith presses, curious.

Lance seems a bit lost in his thoughts, eyes fixed on Nyma, then he forces a smile, one of those smiles Keith is learning to detect as _fake as quiznak,_ always hiding either bitterness or sadness.

"I kinda want to distract myself right now, and if I talk with her, we would just end up discussing what the Coalition is planning to do after all of this." Lance looks at him, fake grin still plastered on his face, and shrugs. "I don't really want to talk about that. I want to have fun."

"For as long as it lasts," Keith adds, nodding.

"Yeah." Lance's smile relaxes in a more genuine one and Lance's hand moves from Keith's shoulder down to his arm. Keith feels a tingle, like static running down with Lance's movement, and he forces himself to take a deep breath to calm his erratic heart.

"You okay?" Lance asks, hand stopping around Keith's wrist.

Keith nods twice, closing his eyes before meeting Lance's concerned stare. "Sorry, I'm just tired," he lies.

Lance pauses for a moment, fingers pressing against Keith's pulse, right under where his vambrace finishes. Keith looks at the movement and Lance follows his gaze: "Oh, sorry!" Lance hurries, removing his hand.

"No, it's okay," Keith rushes, body moving in Lance's direction, because he's pathetic like that, isn't he? "I don't mind. It's just…" Keith searches Lance's eyes for something, he doesn't even know himself what. "Are _you_ okay?"

Lance blinks, tilting his head. "Me?"

Keith is about to answer with a stupid comment on whatever will save him from admitting how much he stares at Lance, when someone behind Keith pushes him with their shoulder toward Lance. Keith yelps, barely managing to catch himself before he faceplants against Lance's chestplate.

"Wha―?!" Lance catches him immediately by his elbows, stopping the fall like it's second nature to him. Keith spins around to search for whoever it was, but there are too many people at this gathering. He huffs, turning back to Lance with a complaint that quickly dies on his lips: Lance is now looking at him with a weird expression on his face, hands squeezing Keith's elbows before releasing them.

Keith frowns: he doesn't recognize this one, it's kind of blank.

"What?" Keith asks, because whatever, he's not gonna learn if he doesn't.

Lance seems to come back to his senses: "Nothing, just…" Keith watches him scratching his cheek with his forefinger. "You seem different, lately."

"Different?" Keith tries to think about it, but… he doesn't think he's changed that much? Sure, some things in his life are now different, both in a good and in a slightly bad way, but it's not like Lance wasn't around for the most part of them. Except maybe…

Keith grimaces, shaking his head to erase the thought. "How?"

"Eh, you know," Lance averts his eyes, crossing his arms on his paladin armor. "It's not your looks, because your mullet is the same as ever." Keith scoffs and Lance chuckles before continuing: "It's like… I don't know. You are kinder, I think."

"Kinder?" Keith repeats, dumbstruck.

"Yeah," Lance confirms, changing his stance to face Keith fully.

"Is it bad?" Keith asks, confused.

Lance openly laughs at that: "No! No, it's good!"

"You make it sound like it's not!" Keith points out, arms straight at his sides and hands opening in Lance's direction.

Lance chuckles, gesturing toward the buffet table before moving in that direction. "It's not a bad thing, mullet-man."

"Then why does it bother you?" Keith follows him, crossing his arms over the red symbol on his armor.

Lance hums, raising a hand to wave at someone: "Hey Bibobi!" He moves on, but Keith can't help himself and turns to look at the alien answering Lance's greeting: they look like a breadstick with limbs. And a face. And… Okay, Keith can deal with alien breadsticks, yeah, _sure_.

"Are you listening to me?"

Keith whips his head to look at Lance, who is some steps ahead of him. "Yeah, sure, sorry, I just…" Keith rushes at his side, casting a last glance at the breadstick.

"He helped us with the Voltron Show. He's a cool guy," Lance clarifies, clearly detecting Keith's curiosity.

"Oh. He looks…" _Like a breadstick._ "Nice."

Lance snorts: "You are really bad at complimenting people tonight. Not that you are able to do that on a daily basis."

Keith bristles at that. He knows, okay? He's far from being good at this kind of thing, but he _is_ learning. And practicing. _On Lance._ "He just looks like…"

Lance pats him on his shoulder and Keith feels himself relaxing immediately. God, he's _so_ pathetic.

"I know Keith, it's written all over your face," Lance informs him, mirth in his eyes. He bends toward Keith, wiggling his eyebrows. "He's so _loafable_."

"Shut up." Keith wants to punch him in the face. With a kiss.

"Come on, Keith, you love my puns, they make you all warm and fuzzy on the inside, I know." Keith really, really hopes he doesn't. Lance puts an arm around his shoulders and presses Keith against his side. "You have fun with us, I can see it."

"I'm not denying that, but your puns are terrible," Keith points out, unable to repress a chuckle. He's a bit giddy. Lance's touch is not a good thing for him. Or it is, but not if he wants to keep this _casual friendship_ going on. He inhales slowly, stopping with Lance in front of the table full of alien food and Hunk's blessings.

"Excuse me, they are _exquisite_ ," Lance points out, picking up a pizza roll. "Like this _wonderful delicacy_."

"The _comparison_ isn't _valid_ , I'm afraid," Keith answers in the same, mocking tone, watching Lance with barely hidden amusement.

Lance sniffs at the pizza roll, then smirks: "You _might_ be correct, Red Paladin." He waves the pizza roll in front of Keith's face and Keith reacts by tilting his head back, but Lance's arm, still around his shoulders, doesn't let him go too far. "Want to test it out for me?" Lance asks, raising an eyebrow.

Keith doesn't know how to get away from this situation. Mostly because he doesn't really want to, but he also knows that he can't let Lance realize at what speed Keith's heart is currently beating. Thank god the armor is saving him from showing it.

" No?" Lance purses his lips.

"… Yes?" Keith offers, because he's an idiot with no filters and _dammit_ , he just won Lance's flirty smile. Okay. He can do it. He can play it cool. He _can_ flirt back.

He tilts his head to the side, feeling Lance's hand, still on his shoulder, brushing his hair: "I'd _love_ to." He smirks and basks in the sight of Lance going stock-still in front of him. Yes. Keith can _definitely_ flirt back.

Lance averts his eyes from Keith, giving him the chance to take a quick breath, then he clears his throat. Loudly: " _Okay!_ " He screeches, catching the attention of a bunch of people around them. Keith quickly sends them a glare and they all find better things to do in less than a tick.

"I was joking," Keith rushes to say, because he's a coward, he's an absolute _coward_.

"Yeah, yeah, I got that," Lance isn't looking at him and his voice is a bit raspy and Keith needs to fix this situation _quickly_.

"So, you can't handle people flirting back?"

_What the quiznak is he saying now?!_

Lance's eyes, if possible, grow even wider: "You were _flirting_?!"

"NO!" Yes, yes he _was_. "I was pulling your leg!" Lies, lies and _lies_.

It takes a moment and some weird staring at Keith before Lance answers: "So you were playing chicken?"

Oh no, he _is_ the chicken.

"Yes, and I won," the award for most idiotic idiot ever existed in the whole universe. Keith puts on a brave face and his best smirk and hopes that the heat on his face is not him blushing red like his armor.

Lance opens his mouth at that, but no sound comes out. He tries again, then closes it. Then he removes the arm around Keith's shoulders and Keith has to quench down the sadness that rises inside of him.

"You can play chicken," Lance finally says, looking at him with what Keith presumes is… awe?

"You are impressed," Keith says back, incredulous.

"Yeah," Lance clears his throat, "I definitely am."

"I love how dumb it makes you look," he finds himself saying and wow, _okay_ , he doesn't have to plan for this kind of thing anymore, maybe? Is he becoming smooth?

No, no he _isn't_ , if what just happened is enough proof, but he is probably getting there, or something, because Lance snorts and shakes his head, hair moving like little waves, dancing with the lights of the assembly hall.

He's beautiful, and Keith is unable to look away.

"You're a terrible mullet," Lance chuckles, holding out the pizza roll with a smile that makes everything worth it - the shame, the awkwardness, even the wingman thing.

Keith smiles and takes the food, shrugging in fake nonchalance: "I try my best."


	5. Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Two boys_  
>  Sitting on a couch  
> Two feet apart because they're Just Good Friends!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is a mess but here, have some otp being a mess to compensate.

Sometimes Keith questions himself about this.

Not about this whole Lance situation, not really, but what it caused it. Because at the end of the day who in their right mind would fall for Lance? Lance, who flirts and smiles at whoever gives him enough attention. Lance, who can smooth talk anyone if the need arises. Lance, who is so frustratingly unable to realize that someone is trying to bond with him for more than a simple reason like "we are teammates and need to get along".

Why would anyone put themselves in this position?

Why has Keith chosen and _chased_ this _blasting_ position?

"No, Keith, really, listen to me," Lance presses, against Keith's requests to shut up. "You did notice, right? They were friendly. Like, way friendlier than _our_ Shiro and Slav."

Keith shakes his head, staring at the ceiling and hoping for it to put him out of his misery. "I refuse to listen to you right now."

"Keith, come on, it's driving me insane!" Lance insists, hands grabbing Keith's forearm and shaking him in a very, very annoying manner. Sitting on the couch with Lance might have been Keith's worst decision of the evening. The amused faces the others threw at them after dinner should have clued him in sooner.

"Fine, what do you want me to say?" Keith snaps, turning to look at Lance.

Lance purses his lips, like he's trying to avoid hitting Keith with yet another tsunami of weird-ass questions. It only takes two ticks for him to fail: "Do you think Sven and Slav… _You know_."

Does Keith want to know where this is going? No.

Does he know where it is going anyway? He has a suspicion.

Is he going to take the bait? Yes, because Lance is _pouting_ , and Keith will challenge _anyone_ who can pretend that Lance doesn't look like a kicked puppy when he pouts.

"What," he asks, defeated, slumping against the couch, neck tilted slightly to keep staring at Lance.

Lance breathes in, like he's about to shoot Keith right in the chest, and says: "I think Sven was… _is_ dating Slav."

Keith blinks.

Lance raises both his eyebrows, waiting.

"What do you mean you think he's dating _Slav_?!" Keith hears himself hissing, backing away from Lance to stare him down as properly as his mind is currently requesting him to do, because _Shiro and Slav_?

Shiro.

Dating Slav.

Well, _Sven_ , okay, but still, they were a lot alike, physically. Maybe not that much… mentally.

Lance doesn't say anything, he waits for Keith to process this, or at least that's what Keith suspects he's doing, because no one is talking and Lance is like, tilting toward Keith more than it's necessary?

It takes Lance's hands falling on Keith's arm and on his thigh to reboot Keith's brain.

"How would they even _work_?!" Keith blurts out, stopping Lance's descent.

Lance blinks at him, breath hitching, and straights back, leaving only his hand on Keith's arm and releasing Keith's leg, thankfully, before Keith's body decided to have an open opinion about their closeness.

"I don't know, but I think they were a really good team, you know? They worked in sync, there was no need for them to talk, they just," Lance looks away from Keith, but Keith now can't stop himself from staring at Lance. Lance bites his lower lip, hesitation clear in his face, and Keith waits, because it seems important. Lance thinks it is, so Keith will give it his full attention.

"Why does it bother you?" Keith asks in a whisper, restraining himself from reaching out and taking Lance's face in his hands.

Lance sighs, head tilting down, avoiding Keith's eyes. "I don't know, it's stupid."

Keith tries to follow Lance's gaze, leaning toward him. "Lance," he calls, trying to sound as gentle as possible, because this situation just made a full 180 degrees. "Your opinion isn't stupid."

Lance seems to relax at that, if his chuckle is of any indication. "I know, yeah. It's just that, I don't know. Thinking about them made me think about the future. Or how things could be, in another reality."

"For you?" Keith asks, because what else could this be about?

Lance's smile slips a little, but it doesn't vanish entirely either: "For us."

Keith does not read too much into it. He knows it's about Voltron. He's not so naïve to think that Lance is talking about the two of them. "Does it scare you?"

"No," Lance says, shaking his head. "But it makes me think."

"That bad?" Keith quips, unable to hide his smile.

Lance punches his shoulder, hard enough to push Keith against the armrest behind him. "Stop _ruggling_ me," he says, laughter clear in his tone.

"I'm pretty sure that's not how you are supposed to use that word," Keith says, just because he can.

"Are you going to correct me for the rest of our lives?" Lance asks in mock exasperation, shaking his head and relaxing with his side against the backrest.

"Somebody needs to," Keith says.

"Thanks," Lance deadpans, "I don’t know what I would do without you in my life."

"Probably flirt with everything, get tied to a tree, lose your lion and―" Lance's hand smacks him in the mouth and Keith glares at him, half amused, half annoyed at the treatment.

"Shut up. You know I'd do great," Lance grumbles, removing his hand so slowly that Keith is almost tempted to bite it out of spite.

"Yeah, the universe seems to agree, anyway," Keith observes, mirroring Lance position and relaxing his side against the back of the couch.

Lance frowns at that, observing him for a long moment. Keith tilts his head, waiting for a retort, but Lance shrugs. "The universe is wrong."

"You need to pick a side, Lance, do you need me or not?" Keith asks, hands falling open on his lap.

"Ugh, just drop it, Keith," Lance mutters. "It's not like we need to make that choice."

"Yeah, we really don't," Keith says. "And anyway, we both know it's the other way around."

"Nah," Lance huffs, smile back on his lips. "It's mutual."

Keith would like to say that no, Lance is wrong, but he can't help how he feels, as much as he can't stop the way three simple words can flow inside of him like liquid fire. Lance is thinking about teamwork, but Keith's heart refuses to get the memo. He pretends to ignore how Lance keeps tying them together, in words, in possible futures, in different realities. It's all a bit too intense and not enough at the same time.

Frustrating, like only things with Lance can be.

"You know, this whole thing about alternate realities is a bit pointless," Keith starts, observing the way Lance's fingers play idly with his belt pouch. It's oddly relaxing, like when Lance knits around him and Keith loses himself in the movements.

"Why?" Lance asks, eyebrows going up. His fingers stop moving, and the buzzing inside Keith's head starts again, annoying, but always there to make him second guess himself. 

But he can deal with that. He's learning to, for himself and the people who trust him to lead them.

For Lance.

"I love this reality just the way it is," Keith says.

Lance hums at that, a smile gently curling his lips: "Yeah, me too."

 


	6. Meet me in the middle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blades, babies and time travel theories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there.  
> It's been a while since I updated this fic and maybe some of you already know why I disappeared, maybe you don't. I lost my father in March, and it was hard to write for me for a while. Honestly, it still is. 
> 
> Nevertheless, I hope you can still enjoy this new chapter, I'll try to restart posting on a regular basis, so let's get on with it before Voltron ends!

When Keith was with the Blades, one of their rules was something along the lines of "abandon all hope, especially when a mission is about to end".

At the beginning, Keith didn't understand what Kolivan was trying to teach him. Keith kinda went with the flow, followed orders, disobeyed whenever he could, and saved some fellow Blades, since Kolivan was always commenting on their thinned out ranks. The way of the Blade was too rash, too cruel for a paladin of Voltron, and Keith simply couldn't accept a failure as a possible outcome. Failing meant losing ground in the war. It also meant that his friends could have been in danger for lack of intel. Keith couldn't stand that.

The Blades showed him that, most of the times, loss was part of the war as much as success.

Facing this side of the war killed something inside of him.

That is part of the reason why he wasn't able to stay with Voltron. Voltron was a symbol of hope, and so were his paladins. Keith's hope was flickering, like the light of a candle in the middle of a windy day. He wasn't a good paladin anymore, or so he thought, and it wasn't like he was abandoning them all to their death. The lions all had a paladin. There was one too many, exactly like Lance said, but Keith couldn’t let this affect the team. Leaving was the only answer.

Lance didn't agree.

He wanted for Keith to come back.

Somehow, Keith managed to understand this from the way Lance looked at him during the last war conference, before Keith decided to leave the Blades.

Lance stared at him the whole time. Arms crossed, bored gaze, a mood that was a lot too similar to Keith's own. Keith still wakes up sometimes with those eyes questioning him, asking for an explanation, begging Keith to go back to Voltron as soon as possible.

"I don't know what you're thinking, but you should stop."

Keith blinks, turning to look at Lance now sitting at his side. He looks around, pinpointing Hunk and Pidge talking with Matt and an Olkari not too far from the tree he elected as his hiding spot. Allura and Romelle are nowhere to be seen, probably nerding somewhere about Altean stuff, while Shiro and Coran seem to be busy near the garden's entrance, talking about something that, by Shiro's expression, must be one of the most boring topics Coran ever managed to bring up. He can't help but snort at Shiro and his bad luck, but Keith won't save him: when Coran starts talking, everybody is on their own. Castle rules.

"Better," Lance muses, pulling at Keith's attention. "You looked grumpy a moment ago," he explains.

Keith decides to level him with a stare, instead of uttering the dumb, lovestruck _I was thinking about you_ that his brain is broadcasting already. "I was thinking," Keith says, confident in his poker face to save him from embarrassing himself. "I thought you were talking to that girl, Ona-something."

"Onakela," Lance corrects him, tilting his head and looking a bit too sharply at Keith. "What were you thinking about?"

"Uh, stuff?" Keith tries, pointedly staring at the huge tree in the middle of the garden: it's old, with silver leaves and a deep brown trunk, and it's really interesting right now, in Keith's opinion. "Trees," he decides to add, shrugging. 

Lance's chuckle informs him that all of Keith's efforts are useless when faced with a sharpshooter's piercing gaze: "Liar, liar, pants on—" Keith smacks him in the face. "OW!"

"Shut up," Keith warns him, left index raised and pointing at Lance. 

Lance pushes Keith's finger away from his face: "You're so rude, ugh, where did you leave your manners, Mullet?" 

"In a cave," Keith answers, deadpan. "With your maturity."

"So what, are they having an affair?" 

"A what?!"

"What kind of baby could they have? A better version of us? An ultimate paladin? Maybe it'd look a bit like Shiro?"

"WHAT?!"

"Maybe _it is_ Shiro!"

"I completely lost you."

"Shiro could be our son, from the future!"

"How would that even work?"

"I don't know, we should ask Coran."

"We won't."

"Why, I'm curious now. I want to know if we can have space babies who time travel to save their parents. It'd be so cool!"

"What are you talking about?!"

Keith shakes his head, unable to suppress a smile. Lance comes up beside him and leans against the enormous tree Keith chose as _brooding crutch_ \- Lance's words, - a chuckle falling from his lips.

Silence falls between them, and the chatter of the others fill it like the buzzing of a thousand bees. Keith tilts his head, focusing on how Lance's shoulder brushes against his, how that tiny contact point seems to bloom warmth inside him, filling an empty space that doesn't have a name. It's a blessing Keith is not sure to deserve, but at the same time he's tired to pretend he doesn't crave it. He still can't actively ask for a hug, finding it too embarrassing, but things like these, casual touches and gestures of affection, are always welcome, and the others know it. Lance, in particular, knows it.

Keith looks at Lance and asks himself: "Is he worth it?"

Is Lance worth of his attention? Is Keith worth of Lance's dedication?

A voice, too similar to his mother's, hums in his head that both of those statements are true. Not because he dreams of a life with Lance doing the kissy face at him, but because staying with Lance, talking with him and arguing with him, is probably one of the most important parts of Keith's life. Like Shiro and his support, or Hunk and his understanding of Keith's darkest thoughts, or Pidge's snarky comments and undying affection, or Allura when the two of them share their insecurities, feeling lost and with far too many responsibilities. 

Lance is equally important, maybe more so.

Lance doesn't realize it, Keith thinks, but one day he's going to. And then Lance will leave Keith's side, asking himself why he dedicated all that time to Keith, maybe complaining about how Keith lulled him into a false sense of security, while planning ways to make fun of him in the quickest way possible.

**Author's Note:**

> if you wanna talk I'm over tumblr [@neerapen](http://neerapen.tumblr.com)


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